


Summertme Sadness

by screamingbasement



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Death, Demons, F/M, M/M, Masochism, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Multi, POV First Person, Recreational Drug Use, Shapeshifting, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:02:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamingbasement/pseuds/screamingbasement
Summary: The cornfields and forest aren't safe, but neither is the town.Question is, the beast she met in the forest, will they be her savior from a dying town and an abusive father? Or will the beast just be an end to a means.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit longer and ties into my other story on here, Rain Drops.  
> It was during a period where both characters were separated and heavily avoiding one another. Summertime Sadness takes place a few years after Rain Drops starts.

Crickets chirped as twilight crept in, the sound of the electrical wires hummed and thrummed overhead, a melody of summertime sadness. The gravel road crunched beneath your feet as wind lazily drifted through the dry corn fields, stirring whispers from the shadowy forests in the distance. A dead raccoon sat on the side of the road, lips pulled back in a haunting grimace as empty sockets looked skywards. 

Pa always said that if animals were stupid enough to stand in the road, they deserved to be road kill. Momma used to shoot him a dirty look when he would start preaching about how dumb animals were and how we peoples were just as dumb as animals sometimes. God forbid if he brought up the gays, colored folks, or anyone not like him. These tirades always used to happen on the way to church, where you and your siblings were stuffed into the back of the rusty old truck, clothing starched within an inch of its life; Dust stuck to the windows, to your skin, dripping down your forehead. 

But that was long ago. Momma would always pull you aside, whip out her hanky and wipe the sweat off your forehead. At least that’s what it would look like. Momma was wiping the tears from your eyes under the guise of cleaning your face.  
The pain in her eyes was the silent assent that she knew.  
Momma always knew. 

“Sunshine, your pa means well love. I know it hurts, but it comes from a place of ignorance. You keep your heart big baby, and you will learn the world has so much more to give.” 

But that was long ago. Momma wasn’t around any longer to wipe the tears from your face. She wasn’t there to be the spitfire against Pa when he came back stinking like Uncle Gary’s moonshine. She used to never flinch when the belt would hit her calves, or Pa would raise his voice along with his fists.  
Only you saw the tears. Late in the night, her lips pursed in a thin line as you would hold a washcloth to the welts. 

“He doesn’t mean it.” She would whisper under her breath, stroking your hair through shaking fingers. It was nothing more than a desperate attempt to believe he wasn’t crazy and there was something better in the world.  
At 10, you could already see the lie. 

An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, frogs singing to the stars from their hidden swamps.  
You wondered if you were stupid, like the animals that littered the side of the road in various states of decay. You walked in the road, didn’t that mean you deserve to be roadkill?  
Maybe it would be better. 

It all started when your eldest brother came back from the war. He wasn’t right after that. Pa was so proud his son had killed those “dirty dust eaters”. He never saw the flinching in his eyes at those words. You could see the shell of a broken man, one who went to war and came back with blood on his hands and filled with sand. 

Pa’s screams echoed across the town when your brother finally ate his gun.  
Momma was just stoic. You couldn’t tell how she felt.  
That was cause the cancer was eating her brain away and no one knew.  
It ate your mother. It ate the farm. It ate the rest of Pa’s sanity. 

It was just you and your brother left. He drowned his sorrows in the towns lady folk, before running off. He packed his bag and hightailed it outta there, like the dogs were hot on his heels.  
It didn’t help that he finally admitted that he was gay, just like the folks Pa hated.  
He had whispered it to you under the sheets, the way you used to share secrets as kids, the winter moon lighting up your window. 

That just left you. You kept your mouth shut. You did the chores, fed the chickens and goats, all that was left from the farm. You ignored Pa’s drunken rants and learned how to dodge the bottles he threw.  
Nights like tonight made you miss Momma. You missed her. You missed when she used to wipe your tears away, the way she could stare down a rattlesnake, the way she would hold you when the fire sirens used to go off, and you didn’t know if the farm would survive this years wildfires.  
You missed her hands, how tenderly they held you, even as she laid, so frail in that tiny hospital bed. You missed her voice, the way she would hum under her breath when she thought no one was looking, the stories she would tell you of the big city and loves she used to hold. 

She used to whisper in your ear about how the lights would drown out the stars, the smell of smoke and perfume, the husky sound of her lover and the time they shared. She never mentioned Pa. When you asked, she would hush you and pet your hair. 

“Sunshine, me and your Pa… there ain’t much to tell. I thought I loved him, and I did. Then I had you and your brother, and I loved you too. And Pa… well Pa couldn’t stand that. So I stopped loving him because he couldn’t love you.” 

When she died, only you and Joey were at her funeral. No family, a scattering of friends. Pa was drowning himself in Uncle Gary’s moonshine and blaming the world for her death. 

A rustle startled you from your thoughts. Cold dripped down your spine, the fine hairs on your neck standing on end. Shaking fingers turned the flashlight on on your phone, illuminating the darkness, a harsh white light to scare away the boogeys.  
“I’m not scared!” Your voice betrayed you. The crickets and frogs had gone silent. Even the wind had stopped blowing, the whispers from the forest gone on the last little wisps of wind. The rustling grew closer, heart beating in your ears, breath noisy.  
Through the corn popped a rabbit. You breathed a huge sigh of relief.  
“Dumb rabbit. You ‘bout scared the soul outta m-”  
You didn’t have enough air to even squeak in fear as a huge maw broke through the stalks and snapped the rabbit up, not even enough time for it to give a dying scream as it was swallowed.  
Slit nostrils scented the air, the face attached peered at you with eyes that reflected oddly in the shaking light of your cell phone. Deep scars marred one eye, fur in tangled mats around its head. The creature’s ears perked up, silver glinting in the furred shells. 

Chest heaving as you gapped for air, the thing turned tail and ran. Well tried to run. It still limped faster than you could unfreeze your lungs to scream for help. Your feet moved first. Slowly to start, soon though converse slapped the dirt, skin whipped by the unforgiving corn stalks as you chased after it.  
“I am so stupid,” you gasped as you chased, dust clouds being stirred as you passed, small critters running out of sight. “Chasin’ some big ass thing that could eat you up just like it did that bunny! And you’re chasing it!!” 

The stitch grew in your side, finally making you stumble as you came to the end of the woods. You grabbed your side, sucking wind, trying to relieve the stabbing pain in your ribs. Pa had told you to stay away from the woods, Momma had warned you, but hers was soft. A gentle superstition born from a place far, far away from here. 

You plucked your phone from your pocket, the wavering beam of light was almost smothered by all the dust you had kicked up, making everything hazy, dream like.  
There was no creature any longer. Instead there was a man. A very naked man with a massive gash up his leg, hair tangled and full of leaves. He was so dirty, you couldn’t tell what he looked like under all that grime. 

“You’re fast.” the voice that reached your ears was gravelly with disuse. 

“Sir, I don’t think you should be heading into those woods. There’s some sorta thing out here and you’re hurt! Lemme help you!”  
It didn’t even register that he had mentioned your speed, you were too focused on the gaping wound on his thigh. Momma always said your hands moved faster than your head, she wasn’t wrong. You had already started to strip your shirt to pieces, not even caring that the light had died on your phone, which meant your phone was dead. No one in town would help a stranger anyways. 

His skin was blazing hot around the wound, hotter than your face when you realized how close you were to this stranger, who was buck naked. Another thing you had pushed from your mind in lieu of fixing his leg. Here on the edge of the woods, the moon didn’t seem to shine so brightly, hidden by the canopy. It was just enough light that you could see blood, black as pitch in the pale light, oozing from his leg in a steady stream. 

“This’ll hurt. Stay put a second, ok?”  
The man said nothing, quietly watching you from hooded eyes. Fingers moved quickly as you tied your shirt around his leg, a little too quickly. You brushed his body in your haste, freezing at the contact of velvet skin against your hand.  
He smiled, eyes shaded, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning your face. A soft, masculine chuckle, accompanied by a flash of teeth in a grin. 

“It’s alright, thank you.” 

You couldn’t place the accent that colored his words, liquid honey to the ear at how smooth they were in comparison to the gravel in his voice. You tied off the last strip of t-shirt, hyper aware now that the adrenaline had faded to nothing that you were kneeling, on the edge of the woods, next to a very naked, injured man. 

“I-uh, I…” Words stuck to your tongue, worse than when Joey had convinced you to eat a cotton ball. 

“Thank you. It was really kind of you to chase after and patch up a stranger. You might want to be heading home little one. It is rather late, don’t you think there is someone waiting for you?”

“No one waits up for me anymore. Hell, he prolly doesn’t even knows I’m out here, wouldn’t even know if I left this shitty town until his beer ran out.” you clapped your hands over your mouth, shoulders hunching in shame. “Pa’s right… I really am an ungrateful waste. Reminds him too much of Momma.” 

“Those are hard thoughts for one so young as yourself. Head home little one. We might meet again.” The man stood, towering over you. He was taller than Pa, even taller than John McReady, who boasted that he was a whopping 6‘5”. His eyes glinted in the dim moon light, an eerie glow that reminded you of something you knew already, but couldn’t place your finger on at the moment. 

“Are you a fairy?”

“Perhaps.”

“Will I see you again?”

“Possibly.” 

“You’re pretty vague ya’know. Kinda rude to someone who could’ve saved your life.” 

“Maybe so. Maybe you did save my life, maybe not.” With that he turned, limping into the forest, quickly blending into the trees and disappearing.  
You watched until you couldn't see him anymore, letting out a huff of annoyance. 

“Not like he couldn't have been a little more grateful. Tsk. I should better head home…” With that your stomach growled, reminding you that you hadn't eaten dinner. Biting your lip and grunting as you stood, you started to make your way back home. 

The crickets and frogs started their nighttime melody once more, a symphony to the questions that swirled in your head over what had transpired. It was all very strange.  
He was right though. Maybe you did save his life… but maybe, just maybe he had helped save yours.  
Your fingers still tingled from where you had brushed his skin, and you wondered what it meant. Men rarely had a sway on you. You once thought you had a crush on Alexis from the neighboring farm, but she liked boys, and church told you anything but straight was a sin.  
What was this feeling? 

He limped back into the woods, leg a throbbing ache of pain. The rabbit wouldn't be enough, but he couldn't get himself to eat the child and he was too weak to hunt anything else down.  
Sabin sighed and walked into the river that ran close to his little encampment, washing the blood and grime from his leg.

It was stupid of him to chase after that boar. Usually he could take one down, but had fallen out of practice. Deer were usually abundant and easier to kill. His stomach cramped with hunger making him wince. He knew of the town that bordered the forest. They were very superstitious people, plenty of fractured families due to the religious dictatorship that seems to rule the tiny little town.  
Maybe he could find someone to devour… 

He hissed as he rubbed his hand over the wound, keeping the t-shirt bandage in place. It was such a small gesture from a human, so the least he could do was keep it in place. He had to admit to himself that such a small gesture warmed his heart. It had been 5 years since he left. 5 years without a kind gesture thrown his way, mostly because he kept to the woods and traveled in the wee hours of the night to avoid anyone. He didn’t know how much longer he could go without putting his sanity on the line. He couldn’t go home, the place he once called home was drenched in sadness and broken promises. Sabin would love to go to his home on the west coast, however that had its own problems to face. Such as reconnecting with those he left behind. 

A sigh traveled from his lips in the cooling air, a shiver trailing up his back, finate hairs raising on end. With the bandage, he couldn’t shift to keep warm. Damn. 

“Idiot. You should have just eaten the child. You’ve done worse.” Sabin grumbled, shaking the water off his skin and stepping out of the river. “If you had eaten the damned thing, your wouldn’t be stuck in this pathetically feeble form that can feel the cold. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID!” 

The crack echoed through the woods like a shot as fist met tree in a violent punch. Sabin growled and shook his hand, picking bits of bark from where they impaled his knuckles. 

“Stupid.” 

He stuck his knuckles in his mouth, licking the blood and splinters away, muttering around his fist still. Sabin had to duck to enter his makeshift shelter, kicking piles of furs to the side so he could settle down. It was much too late to make a fire to warm up, so he would have to settle in curling up in his makeshift pile of pelts instead. Not the most comfortable of options, but the best he had at the moment. He cuddled down into the musky furs, eyes quickly closing, lulled to a restless sleep by the woods. Tomorrow, he would see how his leg held up and then he would case the town. He needed to eat. Animals no longer covered his hunger, it was time to stop wasting his time on prey that couldn’t satisfy him. 

You crept into the house, Pa was already passed out in front of the T.V. that was blaring something or other. Dust moats danced in the light from the television, puffing up with each step you took across the dingy carpet. You would’ve cleaned it a long time ago, but had admitted to yourself that nothing would ever be clean anymore.  
Not with Momma gone. She would’ve clucked her tongue and blown through the house like a whirlwind, kicking the boys and Pa out of the house to go tend the critters while she cleaned.  
The songs she hummed were so different than the ones you heard on the radio and she would wink and tell you to keep a secret. 

Pa groaned and snorted, shifting in his E-Z chair, the fabric creaking from his bulk. The noise made you freeze in your steps, praying to whatever was out there that he wouldn’t wake up. When he was this drunk he scared you. There was this glint in his eye and more than once you woke to him staring at you from the doorway of your room. Usually you tried to pretend you didn’t see him there and kept sleeping. Other times, he heaved himself across the creaking floorboards, breath rancid as he leaned over you, piggy eyes glowing with something. He would just stay there, breathing down your neck, before seeming to come to for just a moment. 

“You look just like your mother.” 

That phrase alone was a curse. 

“Pretty jus’ like her. Ya’ know?” 

His drunken chuckle would send goose pimples up your arms, curling into yourself during moments like this. He would place a sloppy kiss on your cheek, sometimes your lips, laughing when you recoiled from his stench. One meaty hand would slap your back, like it was one big joke. 

“Too bad you ain’t your ma though.” Tobacco yellowed teeth bared in a smile. “Or else I'd have to do somethin.” 

You slowly unfroze as it became evident that he wasn't about to wake from his self induced stupor, tiptoeing across the floor to the stairs right by the t.v. This was going to be the true test. You had to creep up the stairs, silently to your room, find a new shirt (since you had used yours on that stranger) and then make it back downstairs, into the kitchen to grab something to quiet your rumbling stomach. 

Years of sneaking up and down the rotting stairs had taught you what you needed to avoid. There was that squeaky step right in the middle, the other one that groaned like the dead, the subtile creaks and groans of old wood. Your heart raced as you clambered up the stairs, quieter than the mice in the pantry. A sigh of relief as you turned the well worn handle to your room, being welcomed by the soft smell of rose candles, the air finally stirring outside with a faint breeze that stirred your blinds bringing along the scent of the near changing of the seasons. 

Fall couldn’t come soon enough. Dirty laundry spilled from your hamper, you made a mental note to do the washing tomorrow if you had the time. A shirt passed the smell check and was quickly pulled over your hair. Jeans discarded for comfortable sleep pants, you didn’t dare to wear shorts with Pa the way he was.  
A short stop to the bathroom to wash your hands and pick any bits of leaves from your hair.  
As you flicked on the light, pale startled eyes looked back at you from the mirror. You leaned in, gingerly touching the scrapes that littered your cheeks, pulling bits of foliage from where they stuck. That's when you noticed your hands. You knew the stranger you helped had been bleeding, it was warm and sticky when you helped bandage his leg. The shock was that is wasn't red as you had expected. The blood that stained your hands was unreal; A deep sapphire blue that peeled off your fingers in flaking patches. 

“Oh my god.” was that even your voice? It was shaking and breathless. “No. Nonononono! What the fuuuuuck is this?!” 

You sucked in air, trying to calm your erratic heart. There must be something logical about this. Maybe… maybe it was paint? A quick sniff and a wrinkled nose told you it wasn't paint. The strong scent of copper flooded your nose, making you gag as you jerked away the blood coated digits. You took a deep breath and stuck your hands under the tap to wash away the evidence and whatever it was that was on your hands. The water turned a pale blue as it washed away the evidence of the night you had had. This was it. You didn’t need to dwell on a stranger who you would probably never see again, even if you hoped you would. 

There! Hands washed, scrapes cleaned and antiseptic put on them, and clean clothing obtained, you were ready to venture back downstairs to put a meal in your grumbling belly.  
About time really. 

Dinner was a lackluster affair, ramen noodles slurped over the sink to keep the mess down, hardly a culinary adventure. Pa snoozed away on his chair, briefly waking up to yell at you to bring him another beer. You did before retreating back to your room for the night, glad to have gotten away unscathed. 

The sheets were soft from years of washing, cool under your warm skin, the earlier breeze still playing with your curtains. The night time ambiance sung you to sleep, tension melting away under its masterful song.


	2. Anger Unleashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everything is perfect, her coworkers dont understand.  
> She has something buried deep that only emerges when shes angry, maybe shes the real monster here.

Bird song signaled that morning was here. Sabin stirred under the pile of furs, blearily staring out into the dawn soaked forest. Dew glimmered on the plants, delicate ornaments on spindly spider webs, the atmosphere was almost magical. 

He chuffed and burrowed deeper into the furs, grumbling at how loud the birds were. He was tired, hungry, and the pain in his leg just seemed to be burrowing deeper. Maybe it was infected.   
Sabin groaned and sighed, shoving the warmth off, growling about it all the while. If his leg was infected then that meant he had to go into town. Something he wasn't planning on doing until his leg had healed. 

T-shirt shredded with ease, sliced through with razor sharp talons. The wound on his leg was deep and inflamed, hot to the touch. His lip curled as he poked at it, recoiling slightly in pain. He knew the boar that gored him wasn’t earthly… fucking fae creatures;He was just hungry and was tired of eating venison and rabbit.

“Fuck. If they don't have what I need…” Sabin sighed and dug through his backpack he had brought with him, pushing the thought from his mind.  
The backpack was tattered from hard wear, spending most of its days being carried in the jaws of his beast form. A cleanish shirt was procured from the depths, promptly ripped to pieces to act as a new bandage. 

Leg wrapped, clothing in place, and belly empty, he was ready to go into town; All that was left was to fit in.   
There was nothing he could do about his height, and expending glamor to hide his looks, plus his missing eye would be too much. 

His lip twitched in annoyance. Those fucking birds!   
Sabin chucked a shoe out of his little den, in hopes it would shut the damn things up long enough for him to think. He sighed, rubbing his temples as he thought of the changes he needed to make. 

Skin darkened from porcelain pale green, to softly tanned. Hair was darkened to match the rotting foliage that littered the ground, hidden with life. Last… his eye.   
That would be the hardest thing.   
Iris floated into place, bone white shifting to a pale icy blue-grey.   
Hair was shoved under a cap, facial hair scraped at with dulled nails to fix it in place; he was ready. Time to tackle the town. 

You woke up, huddled beneath your blankets. At some point during the night the temperature had dropped, another reminder that summer was coming to an end. In only a few weeks it would be September and along with it, your birthday. You groaned, pulling the blankets over your head, trying to desperately recapture sleep and the dream you had before the roosters woke you. 

Your face went red hot as you recalled what had seemed like such a wonderful dream, realizing how perverse it seemed. How could you have dreamed of that stranger you met in the woods?!   
You groaned again, kicking your feet under the covers, much like a petulant child would. It was so wrong! But… at the same time… you bit your lip, eyes closing as you attempted to bring back the magical feeling of the dream. 

His hand reached through the window, face swathed in shadows except for the glint of his smile. 

“I can take you away from here.” 

You hesitated, hand clammy as you rested it in his palm. 

“You promise? I'll be free of here?” 

“Forever and always Sunshine. You'll never see it again.” 

Get it together Sunshine! You slapped your cheeks and threw the covers back, feet pressing against the cool wood floors. The rooster crowed from the yard, chickens sleepily clucking in the early dawn light; Pa was snoring from his room, like rumbles of a sleeping dragon in its den. He must’ve woken up at some point during the night and hauled himself to bed, which made it much easier for you to creep downstairs to start your morning chores before heading off to Baron Farm to work.   
A quick sniff at the milk told you it was starting to go sour, a cursory glance of the fridge had you sighing. It was time to dip into your funds again to buy groceries, you just hoped it wouldn’t eat too much and Pa wouldn’t notice and demand you to buy him more beer. Last time he did that it took a sizable chunk of your wages. You sighed and opted to shove a piece of slightly stale bread in your mouth and called it breakfast, the chickens needed feeding and you knew the other farm needed tending to. 

The sun was just crested over the horizon as you left the house, screen door banging behind you as you rushed off, you could already hear Thomas honking from down the road in his beat up truck to take everyone to the Farm to work. It was on ugly old thing, rust blurring into the faded orange paint- but it worked and he could drive. Sure half of the kids round here knew how to ride a tractor, or race cars (what did you think we did for fun during the summer? Spit watermelon seeds the furthest?) But only Thomas was the one who had a drivers license.

The ride to Baron’s farm was rough, a bunch of huddled teens and young adults, jostled against each other. Coffee from a thermos was sipped, bitter and black, a slap to the face to wake everyone from their seperate levels of grogginess.   
As the truck sputtered to a stop, everyone jumping from the back on wobbly legs like a newborn calf. 

“Didja have to run over the potholes that fast Tom?” one of the boys jeered, getting a good natured cuff from Tom as they made their way to their respective chores. 

The noon sun beat down on your back, sweat beading across your brow as you desperately tried to wretch the stuck calf free. Your hands were covered in blood and amniotic fluid, the gloves doing nothing at this point to protect your skin as you pushed your arms deeper, swearing under your breath. The cow lowed, sides heaving as they pushed again, covering you with a fresh wave of what you could call gore.   
Edson stood at the head, murmuring softly to the distressed cow, petting her nose, brow furrowed with worry. 

“Sunshine?”

“I’m trying Mr.Baron… The calf got all twisted up in its own cord. If I can’t free em, you may wanna call it quits.” 

“No! Blueberry is my prized cow and I will not give up on her. It was all my fault for breeding her with that bull, I just wanted a strong match… If this calf dies that’s thousands down the drain, not to think of weeks of time trying to get them to breed. Do your best Sunshine, I’m counting on you to do this.” 

You grit your teeth giving a hard twist, grabbing the calf and yanking as Blueberry gave another frantic push. It was just what you needed and with a wash of placental fluids, the calf was in your lap, still somehow alive.   
Edson clapped his hand hard against your back, knocking the wind from you, grinning ear to ear.   
“You did it kiddo. Go wash up, I’ve got it from here. Tell the missus I sent you.” 

Your stomach chose that moment to growl, reminding you that all you had was that stale ass piece of bread for breakfast. “Thanks sir, I’ll be back right away to help checkup on the calf-” 

“No need Sunshine, you did me a massive favor today. Not only did you save Blueberry, you saved her calf as well, and me a few thousand dollars. Go on and clean yourself up, you can head home after this. You deserved your pay today and more.” Edson helped you to your feet with a little push towards the main homestead. “I’ll be at the house in a little bit to give you your paycheck and we’ll get one of the boys to take you back to town.”

“I- but, sir!” 

“Not another word Sunshine! I’m the boss here right? And I do believe this is the right decision to make. Now, off with you with not another peep!” 

You balked when he gave you another push, before looking down at everything you were drenched in, cringing. It would take a helluva lot of cleaning to get these stains out. Your belly cramped with hunger, spurring you to finally heed what Mr.Baron was saying and headed off to the house to see if the missus could help you get this cleaned up and maybe grab some leftovers to eat. God, Mrs.Baron made food almost as good as momma used to, your belly making you shuffle faster to the sweet promise of food. 

Freshly cleaned, water still dripping from your hair, you shoveled food into your mouth as fast as you could chew and swallow, idly listening to Mrs. Baron as she puttered around the large kitchen, talking about the farm.  
All that mattered was how much you could eat before your plate was empty. 

“Oh child, are you even gettin’ fed at home? Don’t tell me your pa spent all your money on beer again…” 

The fork stopped halfway to your mouth, slowly placed back against the plate with a soft clink. You couldn’t look her in the eyes. “You know pa needs my help, ma’am… He just… can’t seem to find work.” 

“Thats cuz he’s a drunk, girl!” she smacked the table with a spatula, looking cross. “You’re a smart girl, Sunshine. I don’t know why you ain’t left this town yet. You’re not meant to be a farmhand all your life, and you definitely ain’t meant to stay under the roof of that man you call your pa.”

Your face heated, hands fisted in your lap. Everything she said was true, but you couldn’t just abandon your Pa… He kept a roof over your head, even though he was awful after Ma died. Joey left, Christan ate his gun, and momma… tears burned the corners of your eyes, blinking fast so they wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m sorry, Sunshine. I just don’t wanna see you waste away in this town like these other folks gonna do.” Mrs. Baron tucked the skirt of her dress under as she sat in the chair beside you, running a comforting hand along your back. “I wasn’t able to have kids, and you’re the closest thing to a daughter I could ever ask for. I know I’ll never replace your momma, she was a special one she was. Now… I know Edson is gonna give you your pay today, but this is something extra special from me. None of this is gonna go to your pa, ok? Put this away, keep it safe, use it to get the hell away from here.”   
She reached into her apron pocket, tucking a wad of bills into your hand. 

“Mrs.Baron! This is too much! I- How?”

She smiled and held a finger to her lips. “Call me Edith, dear. And I have my ways, as every woman must. Now, you promise me?”

You tried to offer it back to her, but she stood and went to the fridge, refusing to take it back. Just a glance, you could count that there were a few hundred dollars there, if not more.   
“I… I promise Edith.”

“Good girl. Now, when you get outta here, you try and find a way to let ol’ Edith know.” she held up a hand at your protests. “If you run away to the big city in the middle of the night, I won’t mind. Just try and send me a letter lettin me know you’re ok. Here’s some leftovers, you can keep the tupperware, Lord knows I have enough. But this should keep you fed and help so you don’t have to spend all your paycheck on food.” 

The backpack sat uncomfortably on your back, sharp edges of tupperware digging into your back as the truck went over the pitted road. The money Edith gave you felt like it was burning a hole in your pocket, a secret sin, just waiting to break free. Tommy gave you a disgusted look, thin lips screwed up in a sneer.   
“What gotcha out so early eh? When the rest of us gotta bust our hump just to make a livin wage, you get to leave early like some teach’s pet. What, you got GIRL problms?”

“Shut it Thomas.” 

“Oooh, not girl problems, eh? Lemme guess… Yer fuckin Edson, huh. Missus don’t know… or she does know and is in on the action, huh. Y’all a nasteee bunch ain’tcha. I always know Mrs. Baron was a freak.” 

You grabbed the wheel, wrestling it from his hands and throwing the truck into a tailspin. Tommy cussed and tried to get back into control, screeching to a halt, tipping up on two wheels along the edge of a ditch.   
“WHAT THE FUCK SUNSHINE!? You a crazy bitch!” 

You shoved your finger against his chest, teeth gritted. “Don’tcha ever talk about the Baron’s like that again Thomas Jennings. I swear to God and his army, if you EVER say shit like that again, i will beat yo ass and leave you lyin in the ditch so the coyots can eat yer filthy hide.” Pure anger thickened your accent, rage leaving you seeing red. “They be honest people, and I bust my ass there e’ery day doin shit you boys ain’t think of doin, cuz you all a buncha pussies who can’t handle a bit’a blood and guts.” 

You sat back in your seat huffing, seconds away from following through with your threat because of everything he said. Your blood was still boiling, the scent of his sweat was infuriating to you, piglet thought he could say those things to you!  
“You know what? Nah, I’m outta here. I can walk the rest of the way to town without your so-called charity.”   
The door flew open, dust kicking up under your boots, reminiscent of last night in the corn fields. You shifted the backpack trying to get the damn corner to stop the tupperware from jabbing your back as you started the long trek into town. Tommy started the truck again, tired spinning and spitting gravel at you as he did a u-turn around you in one last act of defiance. 

“SUNSHINE, YOU A CRAZY CUNT!” 

That was it. You had had enough of his shit for a lifetime. You saw red- the next moment was a blur as you swung at his shitty truck, metal crunching and screeching.   
As your vision came back in spots, his back bumper was a crumpled piece of metal on the side of the road, his truck swerving down the dusty lane, his faint swearing still reaching your ears. Your knuckles were bleeding, not that it mattered as you stuck them in your mouth, continuing down the lonely country road to the town, anger finally slowing down to a dull simmer, crawling back into that deep pit inside of you where it always rested after momma died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was supposed to be a longer chapter, but after writing some stuff that was missing, it seemed good on it's own.   
> Chapter 3 hopefully soon.


End file.
